For Good
by PissyNovelist
Summary: The final exchange between Raymond Reddington and Elizabeth Keen; captured into one, candid moment. Loosely based off of 'For Good' from Wicked; not a song fic. Lizzington is love; but left this fic up to personal interpretation. *Oneshot / Complete


**I made a post about this on tumblr; that the series finale should have Red and Liz singing For Good from Wicked to each other and I thought I should just write the damn thing.**

She had went in to collect the final things from her desk. The last thing she expected was to walk into a dimmed, empty hub that once was the Black Site. It used to be so alive, so interesting, so loud. The silence that seemed to echo would have made her shiver with fear; maybe, around five years ago. But since her first day, she had been tortured, threatened with death, shot at, actually shot, burned, stabbed, cut. So few things had the ability to scare one Elizabeth Keen now a days.

The only sound to be heard was the clicking off her boots against concrete, a small cardboard box hanging off resting between her hand and her hip. When she entered her office, her eyes immediately fell on the figure in her seat. Before she could even think of reaching for her gun, a familiar, deep voice spoke to her.

"Lizzie."

"Raymond." She replied without a beat, in a deep voice, imitating him. That coerced a laugh to fall from his lips. Red flicked the switch of her desk lamp rather dramatically, squinting slightly from sitting in the dark so long. That coerced a laugh out of _her_.

"What are you doing here, anyway? Just hanging out in the dark like a loser?" Lizzie sat down across form him, setting the box at her feet.

"Waiting for you, like a loser."

"And if I never came back for my stuff?"

"Then I guess I'd just keep waiting."

His ex-wife had been right; Raymond Reddington knew how to make a woman the center of his universe. Liz had been at the center of his attention for so long; she wasn't sure of how to adapt.

So, she sat, and relished the attention for just a little longer. She adored the way he looked at her; such interest and genuine care. It was more than Liz had ever experienced in her life, more amazing, and the most interesting thing about her.

"I brought alcohol." He grabbed a small aged bottle of cognac from his feet and set it on her desk.

"Bottom left drawer." She pointed, pulling off the fine wax concealing the precious liquid. Red looked, and she hear him laugh, pulling out the two crystal glasses and setting them beside the bottle.

"No ice, but I'm sure this won't be about savouring flavour." Red offhandedly tossed out, wanting to see a reaction from Liz. She didn't offer it to him.

This is, most likely, the last time they would speak.

The Blacklist was done. Raymond Redding had gotten his way, as always, via blackmail of people with top tier jobs; enough dirt to take out the entire United States government. He was cleared of any and all charges, due to the consideration that he wouldn't let himself be taken alive. They had some sort of deal, but Liz wasn't sure of its details; she couldn't allow herself to know where he was going to go or where he would be. Liz couldn't trust herself not to follow.

Liz took the glass, which had two fingers worth of cognac, and took a small sip. She immediately began sputtering and coughing.

"Oh my god, that's putrid!" Liz began laughing and Red followed suit.

"Open up your taste buds Lizzie, this may be the last time you can savour the finer things." Red sipped away, happy to watch her shake her head and stick her tongue out.

"I thought you said it wasn't about savouring." She grinned at him, leaning over the desk and opening the top drawer. She grabbed the bottle of wine he had left with her just over three years ago and popped the top, pressing the rim to her lips and gulping the liquid down.

"Savouring _the cognac_, no." Red said nothing further; he didn't need to.

They spent an hour or so just talking; like they had never done before. When they were chasing Blacklisters, there was so much pressure. There was a back and forth, a constant game. When Red didn't hold the upper hand with information, Liz held the upper hand with the Fulcrum and his obvious need for her attention. As the yeas went on, and the Blacklist dwindled, it became more relaxed. He was more open to talking; but never showed his full hand.

"So, what's next for the brilliant Elizabeth Keen?" Red was a little drunk, his exuberant hand gestures becoming even more pronounced.

"Got a job with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, have to move down to Virginia. Hard team to get on too, and my resume is bare, seeing as I've been doing illegal things for five years. The head of the team was briefed on some of it, and Harold tossed in a good word, so I secured a spot." Red gave her a small applause and she did a phony bow.

"I assume you'll be kicking ass and taking names." Liz tossed out, taking another few gulps of the delicious wine.

"You assume correctly." The clinked their bottles to that; Red having long abandoned the glass.

Liz accepted she probably would never know why she was special, but she also accepted that some things are better off not knowing. She didn't know why Red hired Tom to invade in her life; he never dared to revisit the subject after being shot by the sniper. Liz never figured out why Red was connected to her father; she thought she was close, but after the nasty business in 2017, she let it go.

When both bottles were done, they packed up her desk and smashed the bottles on the main bull pen's floor. It was ceremonial enough; not like anyone was going to be back down here ever again.

They entered the elevator together, for the last time. Silence washed over them. Red was cool, as always. But Liz felt the bottoms of her feet itching with anxiety. There are so many things she felt needed to be said and time was growing short.

Without a hitch, they reached the parking garage. As a gentleman, Red led Lizzie to her car, parked a few spots down from his own. Liz waved to Dembe with a forced, happy smile and he waved back with his own small smile.

Loading her box into her back seat, she took a moment to lean against her car. Red looked at her, his face painted with his small classic smirk.

"So. This is it." Liz didn't intend for it to come out as a statement; it was supposed to be a question.

"This is it." Red let a loud huff. He was never purely stoic when it came to his Lizzie, but as his time he could spend up close with her came to a close, he felt himself becoming undone. Red knew that Liz could see it, not that it took a profiler to see through his love for her.

"I don't know if anyone in my life who has witnessed what has transpired between us would say that this was healthy. The things we've done with each other, the things we've done _to_ each other… a lot of what happened wasn't healthy." Liz would be the first to admit it; nothing about getting into fist fights with a man twice your age was healthy.

"There's a 'but' to this, isn't there, Lizzie." Red stepped toward her, tipping his fedora back with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. It still infuriated her that he had a range of different smirks for every occasion.

"_But_, who can say if I've been changed for the better? I know that… because I knew you, I have been changed for good." Liz bit back her tears as she watched Red's face evolve into one of control to one of realization.

He placed his hands upon her shoulders, pulling Liz into his form. Red felt her arms throw themselves around his body, hands gripping tightly onto his suit jacket. She was tugging hard on him, hoping that she could go back in time to the first day. The last five years of her life flashed before her eyes and she knew that this is what death was like. All the good and bad things that happened presented themselves to her and she wanted to relive every single one.

They weren't sure how long they stood there, holding each other, but they finally separated. Liz had started crying sometime during their embrace. Red raised a gentle hand to her face, wiping away the tears with the back of his knuckles.

"I do believe I have been changed for the better." Red spoke, his voice gravely, like it got when he was about to cry. His words tugged on Liz's loose string, letting herself weep. She didn't want to let Red go, but it had to be this way.

Red left a fleeting kiss upon the top of her head, both of his hands running down her hair. Liz grabbed his hands.

And with that moment, they walked away from each other. Red got into the backseat and Liz got into her car.

Elizabeth Keen was the first one to drive away.

**I like doing these little candid snapshots of life. I'm going to do a fistfight fic next.**


End file.
